Tell Me the Story
by The Phantom
Summary: A child wants her father to tell her the story of Gandalf. No, Aragorn! No, Merry! She can't make up her mind! Will this bedtime story ever get told?


Disclaimer: I don't own much. All specified characters are property of Tolkien. 

Author's Notes: Another poem inspired by my best friend, TK. Be sure to compliment her in your reviews. :D

Tell Me the Story

The red sun was setting behind trees grown wild

And the pale moon began its' long climb overhead

While snug in the house was a father and child

Said the father, "I'll tell you one tale before bed."

The little girl thought and she tapped on her chin

She was thinking quite hard of which tale she should choose

At last! 'Cross her face slid a sly little grin

She'd thought of a story that never could lose

"Tell me the story of Gandalf the Wise

The one in the Grey! Or was it the White?

I can never remember…" she squinted her eyes

"It was both!" Father laughed. "Both those answers are right!"

"The White AND the Grey, then! Oh, tell me of him

Who fought that Big Nasty and fell down the crack

But came back just in time when the chances seemed dim

Oh! Tell me that story!" And the child settled back. 

Father opened his mouth to begin his oration

But daughter was up with a cry of "No, wait!

I've changed my mind now!" Father nodded, still patient. 

"And what is the tale you'd like me to relate?"

"Tell me of Merry, almost eaten by Willow!

The Merry that became the Magnificent!

Oh! Tell me that story!" And she flopped on her pillow.

Father smiled, but he waited for one more moment. 

Sure enough, she recanted. "No, tell me the part

About Boromir, brave one who died for his dears

Longing for his city, the jewel of his heart…"

Here the child paused her talk and sniffled back tears.

"I will tell you of him, then," the Father began

But before he could get out two words 'twas too late

"No! Tell me the story of that other Man!

Strider with the sword and the secret king fate!

"He was the one with the sword that was broken!

Wasn't he, daddy?" she grinned eagerly. 

"Yes, I'll tell you that tale," But it stayed unspoken

Again she had changed what the story would be. 

"Tell me of Pippin who looked in the Stone

And talked with the trees and got really more tall!"

Father shook his head with a smile of his own

As he waited for her mind to settle at all

But she had some more left, and her talk wouldn't end

"Tell me of Legolas, with the arrows and bow

Who fought all the Orcs with Gimli, the Dwarf friend

The two of them really were something, you know?"

"They really were something." The Father agreed. 

"Is that the tale that you have chosen to hear?"

"Yes. No!" cried the child, switching thoughts with such speed

"I've thought of something much better!" And here, 

She lowered her eyes for a moment of calm

Then said, "Tell of Frodo, who carried the Ring

Who walked through the Dark Land, so far from his home

I love him so much; he gave up everything."

"I love Frodo, too," said the dad with a sigh.

"So that is the story you want me to tell?"

As usual, "No!" was the rapid reply

"How 'bout something scary, that's nasty and fell?"

"Tell me of Gollum! He's scary, right, Father?

He wanted that Ring and he tried all along

But he fell off a cliff, now he's nothing but lava!

Oh, tell me that story of someone gone wrong." 

"Oh, Gollum_ was _nasty." Said the Father, quite grim. 

"I remember that part very well, you'll recall

But are you sure you want something so scary, like him?"

"Wait! I've thought of the bestest best part of them all!"

"Tell me of Sam! The brave and steadfast!

The little girl giggled and smiled happily. 

"His friendship with Frodo forever would last!

Right, Dad?" And she poked him, her smile fair to see. 

'That's right, my dear child." Father said with a grin. 

"You think that's the best part?" "Of course it's the best!"

"Then I'll tell you that story. Come close, I'll begin…"

And she sat in his lap with her head on his chest.

But a glance out the window made him pause with a sigh

The sun had now set and completely was gone

The moon in its' silver was high in the sky

And bedtime for children was finally anon 

"My child," said the father. "It's gotten quite late

The sun is now sleeping and it is late night

Such a heady request! We should probably wait 

I would only have time for one short tale tonight

But tomorrow, tomorrow, then, my little girl

I will tell you these stories as long as you know

Tomorrow we'll have all the time in the world. 

Tonight you should sleep. Into that bed you go."

Obediently, daughter crawled into bed

But turned 'round eagerly for her goodnight kiss

And father pressed his lips to her fair golden head

Never was a scene quite as peaceful as this

"Tomorrow, then, father?" she decided to check

After all, even sometimes a dad could forget

"Tomorrow." He agreed. She gave him a light peck

And he blew out the candle with a grin after that

So she snuggled to sleep with a smile and a sigh

And the dad smiled as well, then crossed o'er to the door

With one final look at his curious butterfly

Samwise whispered, "Goodnight, my little Elanor."

~ The End


End file.
